


Running Scared

by ObsidianRomance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 13:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianRomance/pseuds/ObsidianRomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been looking for Sam since he disappeared 7 months ago.  He's in for a shock when he finally finds him and figures out why: Sam is not only pregnant but in labor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Scared

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mpreg!Sam, graphic birth, bastardization of human anatomy  
> Notes: I do not own Supernatural or Sam and Dean. I am just using them for fun. In my head this story happens some time in season four, but it doesn't really matter. I just think of Sam as a lot younger.

There are a lot of things Dean has done that he isn’t proud of, therefore leaving him with a head full of memories he sometimes regrets.

Mostly he doesn’t, though.

Mostly, he’s okay with them.

They were a means to an end and he has made his peace with his lifestyle.

Going through his recent set of obstacles to find Sam, he’s been a part of his fair share of things he should probably feel some remorse over.  Only, he doesn’t.  He should probably feel some type of regret or a little red light should have gone off in his brain to let him know, “hey, this is wrong.”  None of that happens.

He’ll sacrifice absolutely everything for Sam and he’s built quite a reputation as such.

Apparently, other hunters are taking notice of this fact.  Instead of trying to talk him out of spells or plans, they don’t waste their breath.  Dean’s not sure if this is a good or a bad thing.  It’s great that people know better than to go against him.  It’s not so great that everyone knows his weakness…not that it was too difficult to figure out before, considering the crossroads deal and the…well…the _everything_ he’s done for Sam or because of Sam.

And Dean knows he will continue to do everything, _anything_ for Sam.  He knows it but he is actually going to do it when Sam is suddenly not to be found in their most recent motel room.

It’s unnerving because Sam _was_ there.  He _was_ right beside him for the past few years.  They’d had ups and downs because they are human – thankfully – and incredibly messed up in the head, but they’d both been _there_.  And then Sam just _wasn’t._

Sam had been acting funny for a while, like he was crawling out of his skin when the silence was too heavy or the lack of hunting jobs forced them to be adults and deal with their very fucked up personal shit.

So, when Sam is just not _there_ anymore, Dean loses it.

He’s certain someone, or more likely a _something_ that used to be a _someone_ , has finally succeeded in breaking them apart.  Sam is his weakness and pulling him out of the equation is a fatal blow…unless Dean can get him back.

Which he’s going to die trying to do.

There had been little to go on in the motel room. There were no signs of struggle, but things seem off.

It’s a hunch, but it’s all Dean has to go on so he holds onto it like a lifeline and blows through thousands of ways to try and find his brother.

He’s sacrificed things…done _things_ …immoral things…in an attempt to find Sam.

He’s pretty sure he’s disappointing Bobby, but the man isn’t doing anything other than giving odd looks.  Bobby helps anyway and eventually Dean is absolutely certain that he’s found his brother.

It is the part where he should be relieved but it is hard to feel that way when he hears pained noises coming from the small shack Dean would have thought was abandoned.  He should have known better, had he been in need of shelter, he and Sam would have seen the shack as a three bedroom colonial considering it has solid walls and a roof.  Plus, it is secluded, an added bonus.

When Dean gets closer, he notices the structure is definitely not abandoned.  Aside from the muffled yells, he takes note of a hint of light coming from the area.  He doesn’t have time to think more on it because the night is punctured by a definitive scream, a Sammy scream; he finds himself running through the tall grass and bursting into the building.

The spell he’d used had led him in the direction but one look around the inside of the shack and he cannot stop the overwhelming ‘ _Sam’_ feeling he gets.  He is in the right place.

Stumbling into the room, if one could even call it that, Dean almost skids across a splash of straw colored liquid.  It’s right at the threshold and he has to trip over himself to avoid it.  It’s not water but Dean has no idea what it really is; it’s something he’s never seen before.  At the tail end of it, smeared and leading further into the room, is a splotch of pink.  _That_ Dean has seen before.  That is blood.  He only needs to sniff the room once to confirm his assumption because the metallic tang of Sam’s blood floods his nostrils and he wishes he wasn’t as familiar with that smell as he is.

It’s Sam’s blood.  There is more of it staining the floor and heading in the direction of the back wall, but the room is dim enough to leave Dean unsure as to how much.

He can’t think more in-depth about the blood because his ears pick up on rapid breathing and a sound that is more of a grunt than a scream.  It’s Sam and Dean knows he is clenching his teeth because he always makes that noise when his trying to be strong – when he is trying to make Dean proud.

“Sammy?”  As Dean pushes into the room, he’s hit with more than just the smell of Sam’s blood.  Things smell _off_.  He cannot put his finger on it because there are so many different elements mixing together but there is probably a hint of sage thrown in there.

If there is sage, that is Sam’s doing.  It sends a jolt of worry through him because he wonders what reason Sam has to need sage.  What did his little brother go and do?  What did he get himself into?

After another scream, Dean can pinpoint exactly where Sam is hiding himself in the tiny cabin.  He only hopes he is prepared to deal with whatever is making him scream.

“Sam!”  Dean’s movements are frantic and jerky as he all but collides with Sam, who is huddled into the back corner. 

“Dean?”  Sam looks up at him with wide eyes that Dean hasn’t seen in years.  He looks confused and maybe grateful but mostly pained.  “How…you...how?”

“Christ, Sammy…”  Dean’s relieved to see his brother alone and seemingly in once piece.  The relief, however, does nothing to stop his heart from pounding out of his chest.  Sam looks terrible.  His face is gaunt and he’s not breathing right but those are secondary to the fact that Sam’s eyes look feral.  His brother looks like he can’t get words out even though his brain is searching diligently for the right ones to say.

“Dean, I…fuck!”  Sam curls his lip up and pitches forward enough to help Dean realize he is sitting with his legs splayed and his hands on his knees.  Growling again, Sam’s mouth drops open in disbelief of whatever pain is wracking his body.  “I…”  It’s the only explanation he can get out before he slams his head back against the wall and dissolves into rapid panting.

Head swimming, Dean has no idea what he is looking at.  Sam is there, right in front of him.  He has a million questions in his head, but Sam is there and that was his goal all along.  Questions can wait, but he needs to know what is going on with Sam because he has to stop it.  “Sam, what is it?”  Watching his brother for a moment, Dean notices that he is mostly undressed.  He’s hiding under a poor excuse for a blanket, but when Sam pitches forward and screams again, it falls away enough to reveal Sam’s legs…right up to his thighs…his extremely bloody thighs.  “Shit, Sam!  You’re bleeding.”  Immediately, he drops to his knees and gets his hands on Sam.  The touch sparks instant results.  Years ago Dean used to pretend his mind was playing tricks on him; he’d never give into such a cliché thought.  After being separated from his brother for extended periods of time over the last few years, Dean cannot deny that sharing the same physical space as Sam actually does cause some reaction between them.  Sam snaps his head towards him with an unwavering stare and Dean can see the fear in his eyes.  It’s almost palpable.

Sam is petrified.  He’s shaking with it.

“Sammy…what…”  Dean still had no idea what is going on and without many answers being offered up, it looks like it is nowhere close to getting resolved.  Unexpectedly, Sam grabs his bicep and squeezes, eyes giving a desperate plea.  His brother is in one piece but he looks like he is falling apart.  It makes Dean’s heart clench up and his eyes dart around in a frantic search for a way to help.  If Sam doesn’t let him in, he cannot help.  “Sam, it’s okay.  I’m here.  I got you.”  He runs a hand over Sam’s exposed knee.  There is so much blood between his legs and he is almost afraid to figure out how bad Sam’s wounds are.  “ _What_ did this to you?”  Dean’s hands get braver and he swears to himself that he can deal with whatever is under the blanket.  Tugging the blanket away, Dean backtracks on that thought.  He’s not quite sure what he is looking at, but Sam is definitely naked.  Only, Sam doesn’t look exactly like the Sam he remembered.  This version of Sam had a round swollen middle.  The lighting is poor and he cannot see all that clearly, but Sam almost looks pregnant, which is absolutely insane but it’s the only comparison he has to latch onto.  Gasping, he can’t help but think it looks painful; it hurts to look at Sam’s skin stretched like that and the growth makes his middle look unwieldy.  “ _What_ did this?”

Now vulnerable under Dean’s gaze, Sam’s hands immediately fly to his stomach in a fruitless attempt to cover it up.  Somewhere in his fear and pain, Sam finds his voice.  “You.  You did this to me.”

Dean is sure he heard wrong.  Sam looks weak enough to misspeak.  “What?”

Gritting his teeth, Sam backs up against the wall.  He starts breathing erratically again and gives Dean a look.  Dean’s seen that look thousands of times.  It mean’s what Sam is about to say is important and that Dean needs to treat it as such.  “Dean…I…I have no idea how to say this.  I have no…”  He pauses, gasps, eyes going wide as pain courses through his body.  “Shit, Dean…I’m sorry.  I swear.  I’m sorry.”

Nothing makes sense but seeing Sam drowning in pain makes Dean’s brain go foggy.  Sam splays his legs further so as to get solid footing when he plants his feet firmly on the ground.  “Sam, you don’t need to be sorry.  You need to tell me how to help you.  You need to tell me what I can do.  Let me help Sam.  I _can_ help.”

“No…I do need to be sorry.  I do…I…”  Sam looks lost.  Giving up on words, he hopes actions will say what he needs to say when he pulls Dean’s hand closer and presses it to his round belly.  “I’m fucking pregnant.”

“You..wha?  Huh?”  Dean wants to laugh.  He wants to think Sam is kidding but Sam keeps staring at him and Dean know without a shred of doubt that his brother whole headedly believes what he just said.  Even though Sam being pregnant seems insane, they’ve encountered hundreds of more unbelievable events.  Hell, they’ve had people – _demons_ – inside of them, Sam having a fetus inside him is somewhere on that same line of weirdness.  Under his palm, Sam’s belly is hard and _there_.  It’s not a familiar part of his brother and the sudden movement he feels inside same is definitely not familiar.  It is, however, real.  He pulls his palm back like he’s been burned, shaking out his hand and staring at Sam.  “Holy shit.”

“Yeah…holy shit.”  Sam starts panting and rubs his middle like it will help the situation. 

It doesn’t. 

It just makes Dean stare.  He keeps watching Sam’s distended stomach tense and spasm; somewhere along the line, Dean connects the dots.  Sam’s having contractions.  “You’re in labor!”

“Yeah, for a few hours.”  Looking relieved that his brother believes him, Sam nods.  A contraction takes hold and he rolls his hips and hisses.  “Mother fucker.”  The movement exposes more blood, making both men’s stomachs drop out.

“Sam, you’re bleeding.  You’re bleeding _a lot_.”  Dean has trouble wrapping his brain around what is happening.  In five minutes he has found his brother, discovered he is pregnant, and, more shockingly, discovered he is in labor.  It makes no sense.  If he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes, Dean knows he would never believe this.  Part of him still doesn’t believe it.  He wonders if something else is going on with Sam.

“Yeah, I know.”  Sam shifts, clinging to a temporary calm.  “It’s normal.  The blood.  I’ve read there is a lot of it.  It won’t kill me…at least it shouldn’t.”

“What do you mean by ‘shouldn’t’?”  Things don’t piece together well.  Not only is Sam handing being pregnant like a champ, but he is barely flinching at the amount of blood accumulating on the floor.  “What do you mean ‘normal’?  You’ve researched this?  You _knew_ about this?”  Head spinning, Dean cannot even contemplate what Sam having done research means.  If his brother knew about his pregnancy, had enough sense to research it, then why the hell didn’t he have enough sense to come back to Dean?  If something supernaturally knocked his brother up, why didn’t he come running back to Dean for help as soon as he had gotten free?  “Okay, so…this has happened before?”

“Yeah, a few times.  There is not much information out there but I found whatever there was to find.  It’s happened.  I’ve prepared enough so that I can survive it.  Excessive bleeding is normal because,”  Sam flushed and let his words drop off.

Dean catches the way Sam swallows his words.  It is bad enough Sam has seemingly kept himself out here on his own on purpose.  The fact that Sam is continuing to hide something from him is like pouring salt on the wound.  “What aren’t you telling me, Sammy?”

“The baby has to get out.”  Flushing more, Sam struggles through an awkward couple of breathes before continuing.  “My body kinda figured out a way to do that.”

“Your body, what?”

“The bleeding…it’s happening because of a spell.  It…I kinda…there’s a way for _it_ to get out now.”  Sam groans.  “And we kinda have to stop talking soon because _it_ really wants out _now_.”

“Out _how_?”  Dean’s eyebrows knit together but his eyes are wide in disbelief.  “Shit, Sammy, what the hell did this to you?  I mean, you just up and disappeared months ago.  What the fuck hauled your ass to strangeville and knocked you up?  I mean, that’s one sick…”

Like he’d done thousands of times before, Sam looked at Dean and latched onto his thoughts.  “Dean, you don’t understand.  When I said you were the one to do this to me, I wasn’t kidding.”  Putting both hands on his belly, he gave his brother a pleading look.  “It’s your fault.  It’s your kid.  You _really_ did do this to me.”

The revelation is a lead weight in his gut.  The last time Dean checked, he didn’t have a special ability to impregnate his brother.  He wants to laugh but Sam is glaring at him in a way that makes it hard for Dean to understand if he is angry or determined.  Words get heavy in his mouth and they collide into each other, making “how” the only thing to escape his mouth on a question.

Sam’s breathing heavy again but he talks through it.  “Three months before I disappeared, we were on a case.  We killed a witch doctor of sorts, remember?  She was like a witch fertility specialist.  Well, that night we fucked like rabbits.”

The impulse to puff up his chest and proudly state, “hell yeah, we did” pops into Dean’s brain but he is smart enough to know that _now_ is really not the time.  Instead, his voice stays even.  “We’ve fucked like rabbits on multiple occasions.  _This_ has never been the result.”

“Well it is now.”  Sam’s words are a quick snap, pain making them sting when the hit Dean’s ear.  “I don’t know Dean.  She did _something_.  I’m pregnant.  You killed her but she was saying something – doing something – and I think that’s what led to this.”  Sam makes a quick hand gesture towards his middle.  “Others…the ones I’ve come across in my research, had similar stories.  It wasn’t always a witch doctor, but it was a spell none the less.  And the spell had an extra surprise in store for me by giving me a birth canal of sorts.  It’s been opening up for hours.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean scoffs.

“No.  This is not fucking funny.”  Sam runs a hand across the underside of his belly, arching his back and making everything look all the more painful.

“So, what now?  Now you give birth – god, Sammy, are you hearing how crazy this sounds? – to some type of demon?”

“No, Dean.  Focus.  It’s a baby.  A human baby.  It’s your kid.”  Sam scrunches his face up.  “Oh fuck!”

Dean knows he heard Sam say that three times but that does not mean he has an easy time believing it.  It’s absolutely absurd but his mind is still hung up on being hurt that Sam _knew_ he was having a human baby, _Dean’s_ human baby, and yet he still went off the radar for so long.  “You knew?  You knew all this time what was going on?  And you left?  You fucking left?  After everything, all the bull shit, you go up and leave?  I thought you were dead.  I thought something took you.  And you were keeping yourself away on purpose?”

Sam doesn’t answer.  Instead, he screams louder than Dean’s every heard.  The scream doesn’t have an end, it just rolls into panting and scrambling, Sam’s nails clawing at the ground.  Dean can see the shine of a heavy coating of sweat across Sam’s body and his brother looks at him weakly.

“Dean…I’m sorry.  Sorry.  But…fuck…it has to wait.”  He shifts and grabs the backs of his thighs, pulling his legs open and back.  “You can go…I’d understand… _shit_ this kid wants out…I gotta…”  Sam bites his lip and writhes in pain.

Though furious, Dean is definitely conflicted.  He’s angry at Sam and he’s hurt more than he wants to reveal, but Sam looks like he is dying and instinct to protect him goes way too deep to override.  “I’m fucking pissed at you Sam, but I’d still die for you.  I’m not going anywhere.  We’re going to do this together.”  Pushing back his sleeves, Dean turns to grab a lantern and bring it closer so he can get a better look at what’s causing Sam to react in such a way.  He’s met with a lot of blood but the light lets him notice something more.  Reaching out, Dean bites his lip and looks at his brother.  “Sammy, I’m just going to look, okay?”

Groaning, Sam’s posture changes completely.  At the mention of help from Dean, he latches onto his brother’s forearms.  The fear is back again, despite his valiant effort to be strong.  “Dean, I don’t know what to do.  I’ve read things but I’ve never talked to anyone.  I don’t know…”

Dean hisses when he holds Sam’s penis and testicles aside and finds the reason for all the blood.  He wants to pass out but he tries not to think about it.  He knows he’s been in situations with more blood before but that blood wasn’t coming from an unfamiliar looking open wound along his brother’s perineum.  It looks like a crude structure but Dean assumes it will get the job done of letting a baby pass through.  “It’s okay, we’re going to figure it out.  It can’t be too hard, right?  People deliver babies every day.”

“Yeah…people who aren’t us.”

“People who aren’t you.  I’ve delivered a baby before.  It wasn’t too hard.  I can do it again.”

“You have?”  There is a brief glimmer of hope in Sam’s eyes.

“Yeah.  Once.  It was a routine exorcism several years back but the possessed woman was pregnant.  She’d been in labor the whole time but the demon didn’t let that part come across.  Once we ganked the dick, things got kicked into overdrive.  I ended up delivering the baby.  You know, I couldn’t just leave her.  So yeah, Sam, we can do this.  I’ve got you.”  It amazes Dean how successfully he pulled off sounding confident.  He is scared shitless.  Truthfully, delivering a baby was _disgusting_ and he swore he was never going to do that again, but he is not going to tell Sam that.  He has no idea what he is doing, the woman had done all the work before, but he winged most of the situations thrown at him and he hopes that strategy will work this time around.

“Okay.  Yeah.  Okay.”  Nods his head too rapidly, Sam proves he is just as uncertain as Dean but he is going to grip that false sense of confidence for all it’s worth.  “I’ve gotta…god I think I need to push, Dean.”

“Go for it, Sammy.”  Dean realizes the command isn’t needed because Sam’s body tenses and bears down well before he even has the words out.  There is a new rush of blood and Dean observes that the bleeding is almost calculated.  Sam’s not bleeding freely, which Dean supposes is why his brother believes this whole event won’t kill him.

“Holy shit!”  Sam’s eyes practically roll back in his head as he comes back down from the push.  “This is wrong.  I researched wrong.  _This_ can’t happen.”

“Don’t you dare think that way.”  Dean places his hands on the insides of Sam’s thighs and pushes them open.  “You’ve never researched wrong, not when it really counts.  It’s going to happen.  You just need to let it happen.”  For more than one reason, he needs Sam to have confidence in his research.  Sam’s clearly had more time to mull this predicament over than the twenty minutes Dean’s had, someone needs to be the brains of this operation.  His heart is beating faster than he’s ever pushed the Impala when Sam groans loudly through a push.  Dean can see something straining behind the new opening in Sam’s body.

Sam squeezes his eyes shut and bears down.  He loses his grip on his thighs, leaving Dean to push them up throughout the duration of the push. 

Watching Sam struggle, Dean’s mind wanders to the thought that his brother had been intending to do this alone.  He’s not one to have wavering faith in Sam’s abilities, but his brother looks like he is drowning.  It leaves him uncertain as to if Sam would have been able to get through this.  When Sam’s hand closes around his wrist, he grips so tightly that Dean is left to believe that there is no way out of this torment without depending on each other.  Sam needs him and Dean isn’t strong enough to believe that he could have kept going without his brother.

Sam pushes for what seems like forever.  It’s almost like he doesn’t come up for air.  When he finally falls against the wall, looking more like a ragdoll than the strong person Dean knows he can be, he’s crying.  “I’m sorry Dean.  Sorry…this is all wrong.  I didn’t want it to be like this.  I just…I didn’t know…I’ve been a freak so long and I didn’t know.  It did weird things to my head…and I needed… _shit_.”  Sam tenses up again, body working on its own accord when Sam clearly isn’t on board yet.  He’s giving off a heavy vibe of surrender and Dean’s blood goes cold.  This can only end in failure if Sam doesn’t help.

“Shh, Sam.  Not now.  Later.  Right now I need you to get angry.  Get pissed off.  Okay?  Can you do that?  Get mad.  Be mad at…at anything.  Be mad for thinking you are a freak.  Hell, get mad at me.  I don’t care.  Just don’t give up.  Not now.  Alright?”  With one hand, Dean tilts Sam’s head so that they lock eyes.  “Get angry Sammy and push.  Push really hard.”

The words work and Sam seems to rally.  He goes tense again and doesn’t break eye contact with Dean while he pushes.  “This sucks!”

“I’m sure.  But you can do it Sam, keep going.”  There are a lot of words Dean wants to say and even more questions.  Ultimately, the need to comfort his brother overwhelms him.  He lets Sam squeeze his wrist so tightly that he’s afraid it will end up broken.  It doesn’t matter.  Sam’s pushing and doing _something_ because the new exit to his body bulges outward in a hint of what is about to come.

Sam lets out a sharp cry through gritted teeth when his pushing pays off and something gives.  He looks shocked, in too much pain to make a sound as he chokes on air.  “Fuck! Dean! Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean…”  He chants his brother’s name like a lifeline, panic rising to the surface of his movements and words.

“It’s okay.  It’s,” Dean pauses to reassess.  His brother told him that whatever is coming out of him isn’t an ‘it’.  It’s a ‘who’.  The sooner he gets his brain wrapped around that fact the better.  He thinks that maybe reminding Sam of the fact that there is more to the next few minutes than pain will help his brother stay strong.  “The baby’s head is right there.  Seriously, you’ve almost got it out.”

Shaking his head left to right, Sam’s voice cracks.  “No, can’t.  I can’t.  “This…this is so fucked up.”

“Yeah, well, deal.  We’re fucked up.  You’ve got this.  Keep pushing.  Come on, I’ve seen you do plenty worse.”

Shaking with effort, Sam tries to push but doesn’t fully commit to it.  He falls apart and sets to shaking his head again.  “No!  I’ve _never_ done worse!  Never!  Ugh!  This is…fuck, I’mma die.”

“No you’re not.  You’re not going anywhere on my watch.  But you gotta get this kid out, the sooner the better.”  Dean isn’t going to mention the blood or the fact that Sam looks far too pale for comfort.  He cups the heels of Sam’s feet with his hands and pushes them up.  “Come on, let’s go.  Right now.  Push Sam!”

Almost going cross-eyed, Sam hesitates a moment before soldiering through the pain and pushing.  He growls.  Legs straining against Dean’s palms, he lunges forward and pushes harder than before.  Going right back at it, he yells loudly as a bloody curve pushes through.  “Huuhhg!”  With an agonizingly slow slide, the rest of the head inches out and stays that way.

Pride swells up in Dean’s chest when he watches Sam overcome the first real hurdle.  “See, Sam.  I told you that you could do it.  You’re doing good.”

“It doesn’t feel too good.”  Sam’s world goes out of focus and he has to plant each hand firmly at his side to himself upright.

Dean doesn’t feel too good either.  He’s nervous and selfishly wants this all to be over so he can have definite proof that Sam will be okay.  Instinct makes him bring his hands to the baby’s head so that he can cradle it as the tiny being seems to shift while still inside Sam’s body.  Without warning, Sam rolls his hips and pushes, making the baby’s shoulders tug at the edges of Sam’s ‘birth canal’, getting stuck for several pushes before Sam gets them free and the baby’s body makes a sudden slide into Dean’s hands.  “Holy shit, Sam.  Don’t stop.”

Sam doesn’t hear him.  He’s too busy getting lost in the urge to push and desire to have this over with.  He moans out something that may have been Dean’s name and succeeds in delivering the baby into his brother’s hands.  Like a chain reaction, as soon as the baby is out, Sam falls against the wall.  He is a panting, sweaty mess and his eyes are out of focus, but he gives an insane laugh.  He’s probably semi-lucid at this point and he’s still shaking but he’s alive.

Even though he notices his brother collapse against the wall, catching the baby takes Dean off guard.  He would have sworn that the baby was secondary to his brother’s wellbeing but that was before the tiny helpless being landed in his arms.  It is impossible for him to do more than run his eyes over Sam for a quick reassurance that he is still breathing before something in his gut tugs his attention down to the bloody baby.

“Shit.”  The baby isn’t doing much of anything.  It’s kind of floppy and Dean’s not sure what he is looking at.  It looks human but it is covered in Sam’s blood, giving Dean little hope that it is actually alive.  Limbs feeling like they are filled with lead, Dean doesn’t know what to do.  He’d taken care of Sam when he was a baby, but he was four at the time.  He didn’t have the type of fear for the infant that he seems to have now. 

Unable to stand looking at the blood anymore, he uses a scrap of Sam’s blanket and rubs it down.  He keeps rubbing and suddenly there is a wet wailing sound.  The baby takes an unpracticed breath and lets out such a shrill cry that it startles Dean.  He keeps rubbing the baby down and is rewarded with the baby getting more agitated with each rubdown, flailing its arms and letting out louder cries.  “Hey, look at that.”  The right side of Dean’s lips curve upward when the baby fights him.  A balled up fist smacks against his hand and Dean laughs.  The ‘punch’ was unintentional but it looks like the baby is defending itself against his attempts to clean it off and make sure it is okay.  “You’re a Winchester, aren’t you?  You little toughie.  You won’t let anyone push you around.”

Using the last ounces of his energy, Sam cranes his neck enough so he can see Dean.  “It…it’s…alive?”

“Yeah.”  Dean feels crazy.  He’d run the gamut of being concerned, angry, nervous, and hopeless, but now he is feeling elated.  It made no sense but this little creature is screaming at him and he is smiling.  Sam said the baby is his.  If that’s true, then he is holding onto the child he never thought would exist.  That action is mind blowing.  Situating the baby on his lap, he falls to examining every inch of it.  The hands each have five fingers and the arms are soft and rolly.  The feet have five toes, even though they are so teeny Dean has a hard time counting them.  The belly is round and still attached to Sam with a pulsing cord that is far too disgusting looking to be attached to this little miracle.  True, the baby was due to a curse, but it is miraculous that it is here.  Dean runs his hands over the baby’s body and stills the kicking legs.  “Yeah, it’s alive and it’s a girl.”

“Really?”

Dean looks up to Sam and as happy as he is, his heart sinks a bit.  Sam looks like shit.  He’s sweaty and pale, but what is more concerning is that he looks like consciousness isn’t going to be more than a memory in the near future.  “Yeah, really.  She’s…she’s kind of awesome.  She’s okay.”

“I don’t think any of the babies lived…I didn’t…I…fuck, Dean.  She’s alive?”  Sam wipes at his tear filled eyes with the back of his hand.  “She lived?”

There is a flip-flop of emotions in Dean’s chest when he realizes Sam had thought all long that he would survive this ordeal but the baby would be sacrificed.  He cannot imagine how much that must have hurt.  It sheds light on why Sam kept the pregnancy away from him; it’s not enough for Dean to forgive Sam all that easily, but he knows he will get there.  He holds the baby up to Sam so that he can get a good look at her.  The wail that leaves her mouth, coupled with turning red and tensing her arms, almost seems to be her version of showing off how much life she has in her.  It’s the first time Dean gets to take her in as a whole and the wind is knocked out of him.  “She looks like you when you were a baby, Sam.  She’s smaller, but…the resemblance is…it’s just insane.”

Sam blinks. His emotions are running wild and he lets himself cry.  The pain is still there but he is numb to it.  It’s probably a good thing because he is bleeding heavily.  “I thought she died.  I thought…I…”  His face distorts into uncontrolled crying and he bites his lip.  “I thought…shit…I’m sorry Dean.”

“Sam, shh.  I don’t want to talk about it now.”  Dean pulls the baby to his chest and holds her close.  She is warm and wiggly and she surprises Dean with just how well she fits against his body.  Her cries stop almost instantly, prompting her to open her eyes.  It’s too dark to appreciate their actual color but it makes it apparent that they aren’t spaced the way Sam’s are.  Even as a newborn, Dean knows her eyes are going to look like his.  It is hard to breath for a moment.  “Ohh Sam, how did you do this?  Only you…only you could do this.”  Dean’s words are soft, getting just how floored Dean is by this baby’s – his baby’s – birth.

“I don’t know.  I don’t know how I did it.”  Sam winces, hands trying to sooth the cramp in his middle.

“You like finding trouble.”  Dean laughs and rests his cheek across his daughter’s head.  “Not that _this_ is trouble.  _This_ is the good kind of magic.  Only you could do _this_.”  Looking to Sam, Dean knows he should let the man hold their daughter so as to solidify the fact that she is alive.  Only, Sam looks like he can barely hold his head up.  It is then that he finally realizes Sam is still bleeding.  His brother struggles once and pushes out something _absolutely fucking disgusting_ but he keeps bleeding.  “Sam…you’re bleeding even more.”

“I…yeah…I know.  You need,” Sam points towards a duffle in the opposite corner.  “I’m going to keep bleeding.  You need to close the wound.  I found a spell.  It works, I promise.  No needles.  Just, clean me up with holy water and recite the Latin I have scribbled in the notebook.  That’s it.  Just…”  The whites of Sam’s eyes linger on Dean for too long for comfort.  “Maybe, hurry up.”

Nodding, Dean puts his daughter on Sam’s chest.  Even though his brother can barely function, his arms wrap protectively around her and Dean’s heart swells with appreciation for just how hard Sam has worked for this moment.  Sam is two steps from death but the instant connection to his daughter fills him with enough stamina to nuzzle her temple and lavish her with a litany of kisses.

The spell is easy.  It is cleaning Sam that makes his stomach roll.  He gets it done all while stealing glances at Sam and their daughter.

Thankfully, the bleeding stops and Sam’s body knits itself back together.  Dean knows he should get Sam to the hospital and get him a blood transfusion, but they’re both realistic enough to understand they can’t do that.  He’ll have to continue having faith in his brother to hang on.  Sam can do it, Dean is certain. 

For now, he is not moving his brother.  He’ll get him back to civilization tomorrow, he’ll let Sam explain himself tomorrow.  Tonight he isn’t letting Sam do anything more strenuous than hold the baby. 

Sam had dealt with her presence alone for the last months.  Dean is going to worry about her survival for the next day.

When all is said and done, Dean wants to burn down the part of the shack that is covered in blood.  He settles for moving Sam to the other side of the room and keeping him as comfortable as possible.

Since Sam thought the baby had a death sentence regardless of what he did, there are no baby supplies on hand.  It’s not a huge issue.  All it takes is a quick stop to an all night supermarket.  Dean doesn’t want to leave the two, and his heart gets stuck in his throat when he comes back to find them sleeping because his mind is so damaged that he thinks ‘death’ before ‘sleeping’.  When Dean shakes his brother awake, Sam understands instantly.  Even though he is exhausted, he’ll let Dean wake him up every five minutes if it gives him piece of mind.  They both know they’d been victims to that neurosis before.

For the first time in months, Dean settles himself in for the night beside Sam.  The baby is freshly diapered and clothed between them.  Dean thinks she is probably the safest baby in the universe because she has the two best protectors against the supernatural watching over her.  He doesn’t bother to think that most babies do not have to worry about the supernatural, he is not letting himself ruin his mood.

“You need a name, little lady.”  Dean taps her nose.  Going from being alone to finding his brother and gaining a daughter in one swoop makes him feel like he is outside of his body at the moment.  It is a lot to take in.  There will be guilt and insecurities later, he and Sam both understand that.  Those things have not set in yet.

Sam’s fingers brush the baby’s hair to the side.  “Sarah.  I liked Sarah.  I thought that if it was a girl I wanted to name her Sarah.  If that’s okay?  It doesn’t have to be Sarah if you don’t…”

“You had names?”  Raising an eyebrow, Dean turns to prop himself up on one elbow.

“Not really.  I didn’t think I would need names.  But, I kept feeling the baby move and I couldn’t help but think of it as a person.  I didn’t know if it was a girl or boy so I called it one of each.”  Sam licks his lips and looks up at his brother.

“What was your boy name?”

Despite the blood loss, a deep flush spreads across Sam’s face.  He clears his throat and speaks barely above a whisper.  “Dean.  I…well, yeah…it was Dean.”

The wounded quality to Sam’s voice makes Dean flinch.  It hurts too much to analyze that fact so Dean doesn’t.  He nods and squeezes Sam’s hand.  “Sarah is good.  It’s pretty, just like her.”

Sam doesn’t argue.  He nods but still looks like he is on edge.  “I’m sorry...I didn’t think she’d be here.  I didn’t think it would go like this.  I didn’t think I’d die without you but I almost did.”

Dean’s not ready for this conversation now.

Shifting, Dean presses a kiss to Sam’s lips in an attempt to silence him.  “You can apologize tomorrow.  You can explain everything.  I’ll forgive you, but not today.  Maybe not tomorrow.  But I will forgive you.  Today I am just happy to have you and Sarah and I want to get used to having you in my life.  So, tonight and maybe for as long as next week, we can pretend nothing happened.  Okay?  And then you’ll explain and you damn well better never do anything like that again.  Ever.  You better work your ass off to make up for this.  You better trust me and then I can trust you again.  But, tonight, let’s just be us trying to figure out how to have this life with Sarah.”  Dean kisses Sam again to let him know he doesn’t need anything more than for him to return the kiss so that he knows Sam is on the same page.

They are frozen for a moment, awkward in the embrace.  The kiss isn’t good.  It’s one sided with Dean pressing into Sam a little too forcefully.  Then Sam responds, kissing back and it’s absolutely perfect because it is exactly like nothing happened between them.

That’s reassuring.

Even though _everything_ between them has changed in a way no one saw coming, they will handle it like they always do: like a finely tuned machine that works best when two parts work in tandem. 

THE END


End file.
